


at grief so deep the tongue must wag

by hellraisin, SweatBot



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Manipulation, Murder, Nightmares, Praise Kink, Season/Series 01, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24060106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellraisin/pseuds/hellraisin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweatBot/pseuds/SweatBot
Summary: “I shall take her as soon as the vet opens at eight. She will be stable for a few hours, at least,” Hannibal said. “Would I be alright to leave her here?”“Of course,” Will nodded, and petted her face again, only to be rewarded with a soft lick to his palm, and he smiled. “She likes me.”“Mm, it seems you have a new dog,” Hannibal said with a smile.“What's one more?"--Or the one where Hannibal brings Will an injured dog to soften him up, and then seduces him.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 157





	at grief so deep the tongue must wag

**Author's Note:**

> Please, PLEASE, heed the tags here. A dog is harmed in the making of this story.

It was a little jarring to be startled awake by a wet nose against his palm instead of the static jolt of snapping awake from a nightmare. Blurry eyed and a little sweaty, Will blinked slowly, the whimpering whines and soft ruffs of the dogs as they gathered around the door catching his attention. Lights beamed in through the front windows as a car pulled up, and a quick glance at the bedside clock showed it was barely three in the morning.

"What is it?" he breathed out to the dogs as he stood, clad in a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. He turned on his porch light just to see a figure hurriedly climbing up the steps towards the front door, and he pulled it open. Hannibal was panting as he stood there, holding a bundle of blankets in his arms, hair wet as he kept the bundle out of the rain as best he could. 

“Hannibal?”

“I'm sorry to wake you, Will. The emergency vet's doesn't open until eight, and I wasn't sure where else to go,” he explained, moving closer to reveal the bundle, with a small terrier's face peeking out. Will’s eyes immediately widened, and he was stepping aside, kicked into gear.

“What happened?”

“I found her by the side of the road. Run over, I believe. She has a broken leg, and some cuts and bruises, but I can't tell if there are any internal injuries,” Hannibal said. He paused on his way inside to toe off his wet shoes, and any attempt to tell him not to bother died on Will’s lips. 

His movements were a little frantic as he went to grab clean towels, turning on overhead lights as he went. "Guys," he clicked his tongue at the dogs swarming around Hannibal's legs, watching them move back to their beds obediently. “Just put her here,” he said then, gesturing to the cleared part of the floor now that the dogs had moved aside.

Lowering her gently, Hannibal unraveled the blankets to reveal the small dog, conscious, breathing faint, but clearly worse for wear. Her white, coarse fur was dirty, caked in drying blood, her front leg clearly broken. “We can do our best to clean the wounds, and then I will take her in the morning,” he said, taking off his jacket and beginning to roll up his sleeves.

“Christ,” Will murmured. “Poor girl.” He settled down on his knees by the dog then, placing a towel and a bowl of warm water, and tried to assess the damage.. “You could set the bone, right? We could make a splint for her?” he suggested, voice a little shaky, still blurry from only just waking up.

Hannibal made a soft humming sound. “Setting human bones is simple enough for me. I’m not quite as well versed in canine anatomy, but I will do my best. Do we need anything else?” he asked then from where he was still standing beside Will. When Will didn’t answer, too busy trying to lightly clean blood from her fur, Hannibal lightly placed a hand on his shoulder. “Will?” he asked, voice soft, and then the dog squealed in pain as Will towelled a little too close to her leg. “Shall I hold her steady?” he suggested.

“Shh, it’s okay, girl,” Will soothed, all of his attention on the terrier, barely noticing Hannibal until there was a soft squeeze to his shoulder. “Uh-.. No, no. That’ll freak her out,” he murmured, trying to gather his thoughts, feeling just as panicked as the dog. “Just.. Can you grab some bandages from the hallway closet?”

Hannibal nodded, and then disappeared out of the room, leaving Will to gently smooth a hand over the dog’s face. She was clearly scared, a little wide eyed, but she didn’t once try to lash out, instead just letting the two of them rush around her. 

“It’s okay,” Will said softly as he petted her. “We’ll take care of you.” As Hannibal returned, he thanked him, taking the bandages and starting to clean at the wound as best he could, but she yelped again.

“Here,” Hannibal said, kneeling down. “Let me take care of her leg. She seems to have attached to you already. You just stay by her head and keep her calm,” he suggested, letting Will shimmy closer to her face.

Hannibal made quick and tidy work of the injury, cleaning the blood as best he could, before he was binding her leg with bandages. He hadn’t set the bone, but it was enough to give it a little extra support until they could get her to the emergency vet in the morning.

“This will have to do for now,” he said, sitting back on his haunches. “I shall take her as soon as the vet opens at eight. She will be stable for a few hours, at least,” he nodded. “Would I be alright to leave her here?”

“Of course,” Will nodded, and petted her face again, only to be rewarded with a soft lick to his palm, and he smiled. “She likes me.”

“Mm, it seems you have a new dog,” Hannibal said with a smile, taking the bowl of water to Will’s kitchenette to rinse it out. 

“What's one more?" Will said, as he motioned over towards the audience they had around them. She still seemed really weak though and it made him hesitate. "I'm not going to get attached too quickly, though," he breathed out like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. Hannibal was quiet as he rinsed out the bowl, taking the dirtied towels, and rinsing them in the sink for the time being. Will kept his eyes on the dog for a moment, before he turned to look at Hannibal standing in his kitchen as though he came here often. “You might as well stay here, too, until morning. You can have the guest room.”

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble, Will.”

“No, I insist. I won’t let you sleep in your car. Not after you saved this dog’s life.”

Hannibal looked back at him then. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Will smiled.

“What were you doing out so late? You’re not usually out near Wolf Trap.”

Hannibal gave a soft sigh. “A patient called me out for an emergency at eleven, out in Clifton. I’m not usually on call, but I will make exceptions, of course. I was finally on my way back home when I spotted her,” he said, gesturing to the dog, moving back towards her so that he could kneel opposite Will and stroke along her back. 

"Well, it was lucky you were there, then. Maybe you're in the market for a dog?" he asked, with a teasing lilt."Then, at least, I have an excuse to come over more often.” His hand joined Hannibal's, trailing after it in an even line as they pet the fur down, Will's hand making a detour to scratch lightly around her ribs. 

Hannibal gave a thoughtful hum, and then chuckled softly. 

“Tempting though it may be, I have devoted my life to caring for others. I like to think that at home is the one place I get to be a little selfish,” he said softly, eyes flicking up to Will. “Though I didn't know you needed an excuse to come and see me, Will. You are always welcome any time.”

“Do you think I should be a little more selfish, at home?” Will asked, his fingers bumping Hannibal’s then, and he quickly pulled his hand away.

Hannibal’s gaze never left him. “Not at all. I think you’re perfect as you are.” He held eye contact for a moment, until Will inevitably looked away, and he smiled as he looked down to the dog again.

Will cleared his throat and stood up. “I’ll.. go make up the guest bed. Would you mind putting on a pot of coffee? I don’t think I’m gonna get back to sleep before we head to the vet.”

“Oh, you’re coming with?”

“If you’ll let me.”

“Of course.”

“Well, then,” Will nodded. “I won’t be long. Just.. keep an eye on her?”

Hannibal gave him a smile, and stood from the dog to head towards the coffee machine, watching as Will left the room. He took his time sorting out the coffee filter, rifling through Will’s cupboards for whichever poor quality choice of off-brand coffee he had available, and set the machine brewing.

And then he moved back towards the dog. 

“Hello, girl,” he said softly, soothingly. He knelt to stroke the top of her head lightly, moving his other hand down to the back of her neck, and then, quickly, painlessly, twisted her head quick enough to break her neck. He set her head down gently, in the same position she'd just been in.

Taking a moment to run a hand through his hair, he sighed contently. And then, clearing his throat, he called out, “Will! Will, she’s stopped breathing.”

Letting go of the quilt where he’d been setting up the bed, Will hurried down the hall, pulse stuttering. The smell of fresh brewed coffee hit him first, and then the clench of his chest knocked the air out of him, the smell almost suffocating him as he saw the dog lying limply on the towel. "What--.." his voice cracked lightly, moving quickly then to kneel next to Hannibal, their sides pressed together as they sat over her. "What happened?" His fidgeting hands moved over to press against her side, still warm as he brushed his hand over her. "Was it that bad? Maybe the impact from the… the car?" His sinuses prickled, frustration apparent in his tone.

“Will.”

“I mean, it was the front leg. Maybe.. Maybe the hit got her chest too. Maybe she was internally bleeding the whole time and we just.. didn’t know, and…” he trailed off. Hannibal’s fingers were pressed to the side of her neck, feeling for a pulse, and he shook his head.

“I don't know. I made the coffee, and I heard her wheeze. I turned to check on her and she was just.. like this,” he explained, and then gave a soft sigh. He stroked her fur again, free hand moving to Will's shoulder. “I'm sorry, Will.” 

"What are you apologizing for?" His vision blurred with hot tears that he blinked away. "Not your fault.”

"I feel as though I should have done more," Hannibal murmured then, hand giving Will's shoulder a light squeeze as he heard the tears in his voice. "It.. reminds me of every time a patient died on my operating table, back when I was a surgeon," he said, shaking his head then. "She deserved better.”

Will stood up, moving on wobbly legs into the hallway for the closet that he kept extra blankets and linen in, frustrated tears already spilling down his cheeks silently. “We should bury her here,” he called back to Hannibal, mouth set in a stern line though it wobbled at the edges as he pulled down a small blanket they could wrap her in. He was quiet then, taking a moment to himself as he stood there, and before he could think about returning, Hannibal was already at his side.

"Will," he said, as Will stood there in front of the closet, crying softly. "It's okay," Hannibal murmured, a hand reaching to cup his face then, thumb brushing tears away as he pulled him in close. Blanket clutched to his chest, Will's chin trembled as Hannibal cupped either side of his face and smeared the tears trailing down his hot cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. Will’s shoulders hitched up almost defensively, clearing his throat despite the tears still coming.

"I need to bury her," he repeated himself, pressing in closer to Hannibal's chest as a hand came around to cup the back of his head.

"I know," Hannibal murmured, holding Will close then, his free arm wound around his middle. "We will. But you're allowed to take a moment to collect yourself. It's okay to grieve first," he reassured him, hand skimming through his hair gently as he leaned in to press a kiss to the crown of his head. 

“She wasn’t my dog.”

“But she could have been.”

Will didn't really register the kiss to the top of his head until a moment later, huffing out a croaked laugh until it dissolved into a muffled sob. "Thanks," he murmured against Hannibal's shoulder. Taking a few minutes to calm down, arms still folded between them as he clutched the blanket to his chest, "Will you help me?" 

"Of course I will. I'd like to," he said, reaching to brush a few more tears away, before he stepped away. "Lead the way. Would you like me to fetch anything? ... Shovel?"

"Uh, let me think," Will said then, voice a little wobbly as he stepped around Hannibal then to move back into the living room. He felt a little tense as he saw the dog lying there. "I have a flashlight in the kitchen, the drawer under the microwave. Tools are.. in the shed outside,” he told Hannibal then, kneeling down in front of her. He heard Hannibal root through the drawer, grab the flashlight, and head outside, but his focus was still on the dog in front of him. 

Carefully wrapping her up in a soft blanket, Winston traipsed out of his bed to come close and sniff her body. Will pet his head and leaned in to kiss the space between his eyes, unable to imagine seeing him in this scenario, before standing up and gathering her limp form up into his arms. 

As he carried her out, her head dangled from her neck beneath the blanket, and though Will saw it, he thought nothing of it in his grief.

Leaving the house, Will gave Hannibal a meek smile when he passed him on the porch, and began to lead the way across the ground. Hannibal followed him out into the clearing, shovel in hand.

"You're a good man, Will. Not many would bury a dog they barely know," he pointed out as they came to a stop beneath a tree. 

Will didn't know how to respond to that so he didn't say anything at all, pressing the bundle closer to his chest. “Here’s good,” he said softly, moving to sit beneath the tree then, back pressed to the bark, focusing on the dig of it into his flesh to help ground him there in the moment. "Thank you for helping," he murmured, reaching out to hold the flashlight for Hannibal as he began to dig.

Seeing the man wearing a dress shirt was a little jarring when it was combined with the shovel gripped confidently in his hands. He tried not to think about it.

"My pleasure. It only feels right. I brought her to you, after all," Hannibal said between breaths as he dug the hole. "I just wish she could have held out a little longer. She would have had such a wonderful life with you," he said as he finished digging, stepping back then, panting.

Will looked at the hole for a long moment, cold and dark, and swallowed.

“Should I say something?”

“If you would like to.”

Will hummed. Expression twisting as he pressed his lips together, he clutched the bundle a little tighter. "She looked like Lamb Chop. You know, like the puppet?”

“I’m not familiar.”

“Of course you’re not,” Will sighed. “But I would have called her that.” His voice cracked softly, clearing his throat then as he moved to stand up. Shoulders slumped like something heavy was pressing against his shoulders, Will stepped in closer, handing the flashlight to Hannibal then so he could get a better hold on her body as he moved towards the hole. "I'm glad we were able to comfort her at the end," he whispered. "She was lucky that you found her before she had to suffer by herself." 

"I suppose you're right, even if it hurts to think about. Better here than at the side of the road," he nodded, keeping the flashlight pointed at the grave for Will. 

Will took the shovel from Hannibal then, hands still trembling slightly, he began to carefully cover the hole back up, silent as he did so. It wasn't until he stopped to rub the sweat from his forehead that he realized he was crying again, tears trailing down his cheeks, "Fuck," he croaked out, stabbing the shovel into the ground beside him so he could grip at the hem of his tshirt and pull it up. He rubbed out his face with the cotton, inhaling deeply to gather himself, before he let his shirt fall back into place, stained and a little wrinkled now.

Will looked at Hannibal, a pained smile pulling at his lips. 

Hannibal stepped towards him, his hand moving into Will's hair to brush it back from his face, watching as Will’s lashes fluttered with the touch. "Come on. Let's get you back inside. It's too cold out here.”

Will headed straight for the coffee pot, while Hannibal lingered in the doorway. "I.. suppose I should leave you to sleep. No point in staying in the guest room if we won't be going to the vet's in the morning," he pointed out as he ran a hand through his hair then. 

Will paused then, setting the pot down where he’d already poured a second cup. "You don't have to leave," he breathed out, movements a little fidgety as his body thawed from being out in the cold. He held out the mug of coffee then without saying anymore, taking a generous sip of his own, his skin still ruddy and blotchy where he cried, eyelids heavy. 

"I wouldn't want to trouble you. I could stay for a coffee, at least. And then you should really get back to sleep, Will. You look tired," he pointed out as he came closer, running his hand through Will's hair again, slowly. "Are you alright?" 

“I’m okay,” Will said, closing his eyes.

Hannibal eyed him as he took a sip of the coffee, camouflaging his grimace at the taste of it; far too bitter, far different from the sort of coffee he regularly drank. He set the cup down as he moved his hand to cup Will’s jaw. "Are you sure? You don't have to pretend with me." 

Will blinking his eyes open then. "I'm upset," he said, whisper soft. "I feel like I'm still dreaming."

His eyes slipped back shut, a white-knuckled grip around the mug threatening to shatter it between his hands if he squeezed tight enough.

"I understand," Hannibal said softly, thumb brushing Will's chin idly. "But you're not dreaming. This is all really happening. It's all real. You can see and touch and feel," he promised, pressing a kiss directly to his forehead then. "See?"

"I see," Will breathed out then, relaxing his grip on the mug, eyes slowly opening as he put the mug down, giving a sigh. And then he brought his hands up to his face, pressing his palms against his eyes. “God. I feel like I should shower. I must stink.”

“Not at all. You should rest, Will. You can shower in the morning,” he assured him, arm still around his waist, Will leaning into his touch now.

“Technically, it is morning.”

“When you wake, then. You should really sleep. You look as though you might double over,” he said, and then slowly guided Will towards his mattress in the front room.

It creaked under his weight as he laid down, letting Hannibal take care of him, and he sighed. 

“Will you stay?”

Hannibal nodded. “If you’d like me to, then of course I will.”

Will paused for a moment, as if processing the right thing to say. "I think I'll sleep better if you stay here. At least until the sun comes up," he breathed out, tucking himself under the thin blanket. He patted the bed then, three of the dogs hopping up and pressing against Will's side, one laying it's head on Will's lap.

Hannibal gave a soft chuckle as he watched the dogs clamber up onto the bed then. "They are terribly fond of you, Will," he pointed out. "And rightfully so." 

He smoothed a hand through Will's hair, once more, and then moved to stand. 

"I will go to the guest room. Feel free to come and see me, if you need to talk. I'm always available for you," he promised with a nod, and left.

* * *

It felt like there were hands on his throat. Cold, skeletal fingers, ripping into his skin, tugging at his hair, scratching into his scalp, his skull. It was like he was being strangled and drowned at the same time, and he gasped awake, sweating, panting. Will scrubbed a hand over his face as he came to, wetting his lips as he glanced to the clock - six in the morning. Barely a couple of hours since he’d tried to sleep. With the dogs still fast asleep around him, he carefully stood, tiptoeing out into the hallway. 

The guest room door was cracked, and he slowly pushed it open.

Hannibal was asleep, his back to the door, but within moments, he was turning to face Will, squinting in the dark.

"Will," he murmured then, moving aside in the bed to make room for him. "Is everything okay?" he asked, though he could see from the sweat patches on Will's t-shirt that it wasn't. "Come here. Sit with me," he offered as he ran a hand through his hair.

Will didn’t need to be told twice, moving across the room and climbing in between the duvet, pressing up close to Hannibal’s side. “I’m sorry, I-.. I didn’t-..”

“Don’t apologise,” Hannibal said, laying on his back so that he could wrap his arm around Will and keep him pressed close. 

They were quiet for a while, just breathing softly in the darkness, aware of every minute touch and yet so comfortable with one another that it almost didn’t feel like this was the first time they’d been in this scenario. 

“I don’t know why I’m so upset about her,” Will said, moments later, clenching his fingers into loose fists against Hannibal’s chest.

“You care a lot about dogs, Will. It’s natural that the loss of one would hit you so profoundly.”

“But she wasn’t even mine. I just… I feel as though I should have done more.”

“We did our best. It was all anyone could do,” Hannibal reassured him, and Will gave a soft sigh.

He was quiet for a time, relaxing against Hannibal’s front, and then his hand moved to his waist, and found it bare. Of course, Hannibal had chosen to sleep in nothing but his boxers, having not brought an overnight bag, and Will had seemingly only just realised his state of undress. Staying still as he suddenly took in all the places where Hannibal’s skin was warm and bare against his own, Will cleared his throat.

“I feel like this changes things.”

Hannibal kept his eyes on the ceiling, arm firm around Will's back then, before he raised a brow. “Does it now? How, exactly?” he asked then, not looking at Will as he splayed his fingers against his lower back.

"We're sharing a bed right now. You’ve been affectionate with me all evening," Will said slowly, his fingertips tracing feather light patterns against Hannibal's ribs before curling his fist back against his own chest. "I think this is crossing the line between professionalism and… whatever the hell else we are.”

Hannibal gave a hum of agreement.

“And would you prefer to keep things professional, Will? Or do you prefer where things are going?”

“And where are they going?”

“Wherever you like.”

Will huffed out a breath of a laugh. “That’s a lot of power to give one person, Dr Lecter.” He moved down the bed slightly so that they could lay opposite each other, and Hannibal didn’t even hesitate to reach for his jaw.

“You've had a tough day. You don't need to decide on what you want right now,” he pointed out. “But I can only hope you'll forgive me.”

Will’s brow furrowed. “Forgive you for what?”

“For being so forward,” Hannibal said, and then leaned in to kiss Will, slow and gentle, giving Will plenty of time to pull back.

He didn’t. 

His grip tightened slightly against Hannibal's wrist, kissing back softly, his eyes slipping shut finally as their lips parted with a wet pop. Will tilted his chin up, their lips brushing as he kissed Hannibal against this time on his own. 

Pulling back, he wet his lips then, looking up at Hannibal, eyes a little darker than they’d been before. “We shouldn’t.”

“No, probably not,” Hannibal said, holding eye contact as he settled a large palm against Will’s hip. Will wet his lips. “But I want to.”

“Fuck, god, so do I,” he breathed, and leaned in to kiss him again, a hand moving into his hair as he kissed him a little harder. He felt Hannibal’s hand skimming shamelessly down his side, from his hip down to his thigh. Breaking the kiss, he wet his lips. “Hannibal,” he murmured, voice breathy as he tilted his head, leaning in to mouth at his jaw.

“Hm?” 

Will couldn’t find the words, so he reached down to grip Hannibal’s wrist, and pulled it closer, towards his crotch. Feeling Hannibal’s lips curve into a smirk against his skin, he moved back up to catch his mouth in a kiss, heated.

Hannibal touched him through the fabric of his boxers, slowly for the moment, cupping him with a large palm before he felt him hardening, and he slipped his fingers in beneath the waistband. Will gasped despite himself as Hannibal’s fingers curled around his cock, hips canting upwards to rock into the tight circle of his fist, and then moved to kiss lazily at Hannibal’s throat again.

“That’s it,” Hannibal murmured, voice a low rumble, reverberating beneath Will’s mouth as he kept his throat bared. “There you go.” The gentle encouragement made Will’s hips jerk forward again, but Hannibal was quickly taking over, setting a pace that was aggravatingly slow. Feeling teeth against his skin then, he pulled back to look at Will, and caught his mouth in another kiss. 

Will keened softly against Hannibal’s lips, parting a few moments later for a proper breath, "Hannibal.." he rasped out, his head tipping forward to press against Hannibal's shoulder. Rubbing his face against the bare skin there, Will nipped him. " Fuck," he gasped out, muscles tensing. 

And then, all of a sudden, a swell of embarrassment warmed Will's face as he was already tumbling over the edge, coming into Hannibal's palm. 

“Good boy,” Hannibal said, as his lips quirked up in a smug smile, stroking Will through his orgasm until he was twitching softly against him. Will’s lashes fluttered at the praise, and he hummed approvingly. 

“Christ,” he breathed, arms wrapping around Hannibal then, needing to be close to him. He clung to him as his breathing evened out, slow and gentle, eyes lazily fluttering shut. “Sorry,” he murmured, after a moment. “Should I-.. Do you want me to-...?”

“No, no,” Hannibal said then. “You’re fine as you are,” he promised, shushing him as he kept him close. “Just rest.”

Will gave another hum, and let sleep claim him.

* * *

When he awoke, it was to an empty bed. He’d never slept in the guest room before, and it felt odd not having the dogs with him. Beside him, on the pillow, was a note written in perfect calligraphy but on the messiest scrap of paper, perhaps the only one Hannibal could find in the house.

_ I apologise for leaving, but I had a client in the late morning.  _

_ I couldn’t bear to wake you.  _

_ I fed your dogs for you, so do not worry if you oversleep.  _

_ Take care of yourself, Will.  _

_ Hannibal. _

Will kept the note in his hand as he headed into the kitchen to make a new pot of coffee, and then leaned against the counter as he drank it.

It was only then that he remembered the odd angle that the dog’s head had been dangling at, and wondered when his life had truly become so twisted.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I know, I'm sorry.
> 
> 2\. The title of this work comes from Dante's Inferno, which feels INCREDIBLY fitting.
> 
> 3\. Hit me up on tumblr [here](http://peachkeeping.tumblr.com/), or twitter [here](https://twitter.com/handsomeslut).  
> 


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